Five
decks later, the doors opened to an empty corridor. On the opposite
side, and about six meters down the corridor, stood the wide open
doors to the bridge.

They
can't be this stupid, Alema Rar thought as she approached the
bridge. Reaching out with the Force, she counted about twenty or
twenty-five beings inside, fighting to stay calm through various
stages of fear. Aware of the holocams monitoring her, the Jedi slid
along the wall and peeked into the bridge.

The
first thing that caught her eye was a lone slaver standing about six
meters away facing her. As she jerked back, expecting a blaster
bolt, she realized that none of the bridge crew had even drawn their
weapons.

Carefully,
she peeked back into the bridge. The slaver was still there, looking
right at her. The rest of the bridge crew was attending their
stations, nervously glancing towards her. Reaching out with the
Force, she could sense no immediate danger from any of them.
Cautiously, Alema Rar stepped out and onto the bridge.

“Hello,
Jedi Alema Rar,” Nyk greeted her.

The
aura of calm competence was very different from the nervous slaver
who had been trying to flirt with her the other night. “Nyk,”
she answered, trying to keep watch on the entire bridge crew at once.
The Jedi held her lightsaber in front of her in a reverse grip,
pointing down, with her right hand, which was her strong arm. With
her left hand she held her blaster on Nyk.

“I
promise that no one on this bridge is going to hurt you, but there
are some other slavers on board that might try.” She sensed
truth in both statements. “Because of them, we really need to
secure the blast doors, okay?”

The
truth again. She nodded her consent, still trying to figure out what
was going on. Nyk gestured towards a Bothan at a port side station
and Alema Rar heard the blast doors slamming shut behind her.

Back
to the mission, she reminded herself. “Every body step out
into the middle of the bridge where I can see them,” she
announced to the crew.

None
of the crew budged. About half looked towards Nyk, and five or six
towards a male Twi'lek in what was probably the captain's chair. The
rest just watched Alema Rar, and did nothing.

“Please
don't do anything hasty, Jedi Alema Rar,” Nyk said quickly,
keeping his hands held out from his sides. “We mean you no
harm. No one else has to die today.”

There
was incredible danger on the ship, but none of it nearby. Still,
with one Jedi against several hundred slavers, she had to move fast,
at everything.

“I
want to offer you a deal, Jedi Alema Rar,” Nyk said calmly.

Several
responses came to her mind, mostly involving her blaster and/or
lightsaber. “I am going to send a distress call to the nearest
GA base,” she said, adding the power of the Force to the
statement. “Then I am going to make sure this ship, and the
slaves you people have taken, stay here until a GA ship arrives to
rescue them. They only question is whether or not all of you will be
alive to stand trial for your crimes,” the Jedi told them.

Now
several of the bridge crew were worried. She even sensed a crack in
Nyk's calm demeanor.

“Of
course, Jedi Alema,” Nyk replied, “We would be happy to
allow you to send a comm call.” That was good. Alema Rar
liked it when the bad guys agreed with what she said. “We
would also be happy to release all the slaves that are currently on
board, for a price. However, there is a little something you need to
know first,” he said, with a noticeable change in his demeanor.

“A
few dozen of us have been planning for your, or another Jedi's,
return since Spraikela. There are five hundred and eighty-four
slaves on board. All of them are in the aft cargo bay, with nothing
but a forcefield between them and empty space.” Nyk paused and
gestured towards a couple of holocams in the corners before
continuing. “We are being watched. If you attempt to take
over the ship, then the forcefield will be shut down.” He let
his words hang in the air. There was no need to go into detail.

Carbon
Frakking Flush, Alema Rar thought. There was no way to
stop them, either. “If any of the slaves die, then you die,
understand,” she replied, thrusting her blaster a little more
towards the slaver.

“I
hope that no one, else, has to die, Jedi Alema Rar. It is just a
safety measure to ensure your cooperation.”

Twenty
minds were too many for her to control at once. Maybe if she could
just take over Nyk's mind, or the captain's ...?

Nyk
seemed to almost be reading her thoughts. “Like I said, we
have been preparing for a Jedi. If anyone on the bridge is observed
acting strangely, then any one of several of my compatriots around
the ship can, and will, shut down the forcefield,” he said as
he watched her carefully.

“Look,
not all of us are bad guys. We were just looking to make some hard
credits and got caught up with Schliebak and Darb.” That
didn't seemed to be entirely true, but before Alema Rar could call
him out on it, he continued. “The slaves will live, and be
freed, IF you cooperate with us, understand?”

It
was a no-win situation. She had come here primarily to kill
Schliebak. Freeing the slaves was only a secondary objective. Even
if she killed every last one of the slavers, the people she was
trying to help would be killed because of her.

“Now,
Jedi Alema Rar, lay down your weapons and we can discuss payment for
the slaves?” Nyk instructed her firmly. “There is a very
short time limit on this, otherwise my compatriots will carry out
their plan, and escape in the ship's assault shuttles.”

None
of this made any sense. Slavers are ultra-protective of their
slaves, which are no good to them dead. “First I make my comm
call, then we talk,” Alema Rar offered.

Nyk
frowned, and said, “I'm very sorry, Jedi Alema Rar. You will
have to agree to my demands, then make the comm call. Otherwise,
people might get the wrong impression about what is going on here.”

He
seemed very sincere on this point. Conscious of the slaves' lives
hanging in the balance, Alema Rar replied, “Alright, spit it
out then.”

Nyk
winked up at one of the holocams before speaking. “Several
governments are looking for mercenaries, and we are looking to make a
career change. We will release the slaves, a hundred at a time, at a
price of twelve hundred credits each, in exchange for the Galactic
Alliance's promise not to make any more attacks on this ship or its
crew, as long as we don't take any more slaves, of course.” He
took a breath before continuing. “The first hundred can be
released at a place of our mutual agreement, as soon as the funds are
deposited in our accounts.”

The
young slaver believed everything that he was saying. Alema Rar knew
of several groups, and governments, that would pay for a slave's
freedom. However, not all of them could deliver over a hundred
thousand credits immediately. Only one person would turn over that
kind of money for her as fast as she needed it.

Still,
this whole thing could be some sort of elaborate trap. Nyk was
definitely leaving something out. Perhaps she could convince him to
alter the deal.

“Okay,
I'll let you all go,” Alema Rar replied. “As long as you
release all the slaves immediately, you can go free.”

The
Jedi felt amusement from him. “It's non-negotiable. We'll
kill 'em all and head to the Outer Rim. The GA will never find us,”
Nyk replied earnestly. “There is one little catch to the whole
thing, though. . .”

She
could feel how serious he was about killing the slaves if necessary.

Alema
Rar hesitated a moment before replying. “What?”

“To
ensure the good treatment of the slaves while awaiting their release,
you must remain on board,” he replied.

Since
she wouldn't trust a bunch of slavers to keep their word anyway, that
was easy to agree to. “Done,” the Jedi replied, with a
nod of her head.

The
anticipation spiked just before he replied, “As my willing and
eager slave.”

The
Twi'lek's first reaction was to shoot him. But there was the lives
of the slaves in the cargo bay to consider. She calmed herself to
hear the Force better. There was no doubt just what kind of slave he
meant. There was no duplicity from the bridge crew either. Alema
Rar felt a slight quiver from her damp pussy.

“If
any of the slaves die, then you die. No matter what,” the Jedi
replied earnestly.

“You've
mentioned that several times. My compatriots are growing impatient.
Will you be my slave, or are a lot of people going to die?”

There
were no other options. “How long,” Alema Rar asked, her
choice made.

“A
month,” Nyk replied, holding back a triumphant smile. “As
for the other slaves, as soon as a hundred and twenty thousand GA
credits are deposited in our account, the first hundred will be
released at a location of our choosing. Another hundred will be
released each week after that, pending payment, of course.”

Alema
Rar lowered her blaster and lightsaber. “It will take longer
than a month to release them all like that,” she pointed out.

Nyk
shrugged his shoulders. “I know. After a month you will be
free to leave. However, if you choose to stay until all the other
slaves have been released, we may be able to work out a
suitable arrangement,” he added with a thinly disguised leer.

The
Jedi had no doubt she would be staying an extra few weeks. Resigned
to her fate, she replied, “Fine, but I have a couple of
questions first,” as she shut down her lightsaber.

After
a quick glance at the holocams, Nyk responded. “Okay, but
first, I really think we need to get you into some restraints, or
someone might think you are performing some sort of Jedi mind trick
or something.”

A
bridge crewman approached Alema Rar from the side, barely keeping his
fear in check. A pair of binders were displayed in his hand. The
Twi'lek holstered her blaster and meekly allowed him to secure her
hands behind her back. Once that was done, he unbuckled her gun
belt, and removed it from around her waist.

Alema
Rar was busy watching Nyk watch her as he walked to her. He reached
behind her and she let him slide her lightsaber out of her gloved
hand. Once he took a step away and stuck the de-activated weapon in
a cargo pocket, he allowed his new slave to ask her questions.

The
Jedi glanced at the smooth hilt protruding from his pocket, then
asked, “Where is Darb's ship, and the slaves on board?”

Nyk
frowned before responding. “They took off for hyperspace as
soon as they heard that we had a Jedi on board. We have no idea
where they are, Alema Rar.”

The
Jedi had little hope for the slaves on Darb's ship, but she had to
ask. “Are there any other slaves that were in Schliebak's
control? I want them made part of our deal.”

The
slaver shook his head as he guided her towards the comm station.
“Not that we know of. And if Captain Tol'Ven doesn't know
about them, then there aren't any,” Nyk stated definitely.

He
gave his new slave a moment to collect her thoughts. “Are you
ready to make your comm call now, slave?” Nyk asked her.

“Yes
Master,” Alema Rar replied with only the barest traces of
hesitation.

The
first call Alema Rar made was to the Jedi Temple, to report on her
mission ― not that they had known anything past the most basic of
details to start with. Master Katarn didn't seem to be too upset
that she had been out of touch for so long, or that she would be
staying on board for another month. She didn't ask him about buying
the slaves' freedom, since it would lead to far to many questions.
The Twi'lek had someone else in mind for that. Only after the comm
officer had closed the link did Alema Rar realize that the skimpy
silk top she was wearing was visible on the holoscreen.

It
took a few minutes to get through to her next callee, Queen Mother of
the Hapes Consortium and Jedi Knight, Tenel Ka Djo.

Tenel
Ka seemed happy enough to hear from her, although she cooled somewhat
when Alema Rar told her the price Nyk was demanding for the slaves.
The Twi'lek made sure not to mention the details of her own
involvement, and hoped that Tenel Ka wouldn't ask any awkward
questions about it. After learning how Nyk was planning on releasing
the slaves, Tenel Ka surprised Alema Rar by asking to speak to him
directly.

If
Nyk thought it was usual for a slaver to talk to the Queen Mother of
the Hapes Consortium, he hid it well. He kept his composure as Tenel
Ka attempted to haggle over the price she would pay for the slaves.
After a few minutes, and a few threats by Nyk to space the lot of
them, they settled on eight hundred credits each for the first
hundred, with a hundred credits added to each additional shipment.

The
two immediately begin discussing locations for the exchange, leaving
Alema Rar out all together. She decided not to point it out to Nyk,
since he was still in the spirit of the deal they had made.

Once
Nyk and Tenel Ka had concluded their business, Alema Rar was a little
hurt that Tenel Ka shut down the link without even saying goodbye.

Before
she had time to think about it, Nyk held up a durasteel collar,
identical to the one she had been wearing, except that instead of the
number two, this one featured a double zero. Knowing what was
expected of her, Alema Rar lifted her lekku away from her neck, as he
closed the collar around around her throat.

“This
is a prototype slave collar. It's a bit more powerful than what
you're used to, not that the old one did much good,” he trailed
off as he said the last part. “It has a few more features as
well, but I'll surprise you with those later,” he added with a
chuckle.

Alema
Rar shot him a suspicious look as he led her out into the corridor.
He simply smiled, and raised an eyebrow, as if daring her to comment
on it. Whether it was the Force, or just her getting back to her
slave instinct, the Twi'lek remained silent.

Suddenly,
something else caught her attention. Death! Not the nearly thirty
she had killed, but at least a hundred, probably more, spread out all
over the ship.

Nyk
seemed to pick up on her mood change as well. “Remember how I
told you that we needed to secure the blast doors on the bridge?”
he asked his slave. After an absentminded nod from her, he
continued. “Some of the slavers on board were a little too
loyal to the Hutt, so we've had to do some organizational
downsizing.”

After
passing several bodies, Alema Rar wondered exactly where they were
going. Still, she felt an almost overwhelming compulsion from the
Force not to speak. Almost. With a deep breath, the Jedi pushed
aside the compulsion and asked, “Ma―,” and was
shocked from the collar hard enough to collapse. Only Nyk's strong
grip kept her from falling to the deck.

“Surprise!”
he said, with a condescending smile on his face. Alema Rar looked up
at him with pure betrayal.

“Remember
your place slave, and the lives that depend on you good behavior,”
Nyk told her icily.

After
Alema Rar composed herself, Nyk hit a button on the remote in his
pocket. She could sense the moment it was safe for her to talk. “As
long as you don't scream or yell or any of that shik, you can talk,
slave,” Nyk stated.

The
Twi'lek bit back her first response, then said, “What the frakk
was that, Mas―,” and was cut off again by another,
stronger shock.

“I
don't appreciate being cursed at either, slave. If you want
to be my slave, then you'll have to learn some respect,” Nyk
said to the dazed Twi'lek. “Now, can you behave yourself, or
do I need to keep you quiet awhile longer?” he asked.

Controlling
her anger with the Force, Alema Rar looked up at him and nodded her
head. When Nyk gave her permission to talk again, she managed to ask
him where they were going without getting shocked a third time.

Her
new Master seemed to think about that a moment. An image of a room
with restraints lining the walls came to his mind.

As
she climbed back to her feet, she asked politely, “Master, may
I please speak with the other slaves, to let them know that they will
be freed?”

Suspicion
flashed across his face. “Please Master, I promise I won't try
anything. I just want to let them know what is going on,” she
implored.

Alema
Rar could tell that he still wasn't convinced. “You have my
word as a Jedi, Master,” she promised him.

“Fine,”
he replied. “But I promise you, they'll space all of us
before we let you loose again,” he added.

By
the time Nyk had led his slave to the cargo hold, Alema Rar had
explained to him exactly what she wanted to say, and gotten his
permission. Alema Rar thought it was best to keep secret the fact
that she was a Jedi. Nyk didn't quite understand why, but relented
to his slave's wishes on that point. Just before entering the cargo
hold, they both agreed that she would be more credible if Nyk
released the binders from her wrists.

It
took most of the slaves a few minutes to digest that they were going
to be freed. Still fearful of the twenty or so slavers watching over
them with the controls for their collars, one of the slaves
cautiously asked which of them would be freed first.

The
Twi'lek exchanged a glance with Nyk. That thought hadn't even
entered her mind. An extra five or six weeks would be a big deal to
some of the slaves.

Alema
Rar leaned in close to Nyk and was about to ask if they could just be
released in the order they were captured, but instead, she followed
the Force and suggested to the former slaver that they let the slaves
vote on who would be released each week.

The
slaves loved the idea. The slavers were happy as long as they were
paid. Soon after the slaves started the voting, Alema Rar realized
that she wasn't wearing her chastity belt anymore. She was, in fact,
the only female in the cargo hold that wasn't.

It
had been seven long days since she'd had an orgasm. Alema Rar needed
something in her now-accessible pussy, and fast!

Before
she did anything rash, Alema Rar glanced around the cargo hold. Nyk
wasn't really paying her any attention―he was watching the
slaves organize their vote. None of the other slavers seemed to be
watching her too closely, either. Closing her eyes, the horny
Twi'lek surreptitiously slipped a couple of fingers into her moist
snatch.

Suddenly,
Alema Rar felt a hand close around her slim wrist. Her eyes popped
open and there stood Nyk, with a smug grin on his face.

“I'm
sorry Master Nyk,” she apologized, more embarrassed that he'd
snuck up on her than that he'd caught her playing with herself.

“I'll
bet,” he replied with a derisive snort. “Time to get you
back into some shackles, anyway,” he added, producing the
wristcuffs she had been wearing earlier.

As
much as she enjoyed being restrained, Alema Rar really wanted to get
a little finger time in. With a slight Force pressure on his mind,
she obediently held her hands out in front of her, hoping that he
would cuff her in front. Nyk stared hard at her for a second, then
cuffed her right arm, and pulled it behind her back. Giving up, the
Jedi slid her left arm behind her and allowed her Master to cuff it
as well.

Less
than half an hour later, they had a list of one hundred slaves that
would be freed within twelve hours, when they rendezvoused with the
Hapan ship. Most of the rest of the slaves seemed happy enough with
the vote, but Alema Rar could sense that a group of about fifty or so
were dissatisfied with the results.

As
soon as the slavers had begun separating the two groups, Alema Rar
leaned in close to Nyk and asked, “Master, is there someplace
private we can go? For just a little while?”

Once
he saw the lustful look on the Twi'lek's face, there was no way Nyk
was going to say no. He took a few moments to tell the other slavers
what he was up to, then hooked one hand around Alema Rar's arm,
grabbed her ass with the other one, and led her out of cargo hold.

Minutes
later, the two arrived in Nyk's quarters. Alema Rar barely noticed;
she was busy trying to stretch her cuffed arms around to get at her
wet lips.

Neither
of them even thought about bothering with the cuffs on Alema Rar's
wrists. Nyk fumbled hurriedly to open his pants as he pushed his
Twi'lek slavegirl onto the bed.

Alema
Rar groaned in frustration when he had to take a second to yank down
her silk harem girl pants in. Then she moaned in ecstasy as Nyk
plunged his rock hard cock into her soaking snatch.

As
must as Alema Rar liked getting fucked, she absolutely loved getting
fucked while shackled. The heavy durasteel collar tight around her
neck and the durasteel cuffs on her wrists seemed to amplify ever
stroke of Nyk's thick cock into her pussy.

The
Twi'lek slave's first orgasm was a monster. She screamed, letting
out a week's worth of pent-up sexual energy in many long, amazing
seconds. Nyk wasn't quite as ready as she was, and kept pounding
away at his willing slave.

Perhaps
fifteen minutes later―Alema Rar was far too enraptured to worry
about time―she rose to another, longer climax. About the only
thing she caught besides the endless pounding was Nyk shooting his
load sometime in there. Halfway through her screaming in pleasure,
Alema Rar felt Nyk shove a pillow over her face to muffle her.
Finally, it was over.

The
two lovers lay on the bed side-by-side. Alema Rar was still
shackled, and as relaxed as meditating Jedi. Nyk was still catching
his breath, looking up at their reflection in the mirrored ceiling.

Six
more weeks, Alema
Rar thought as she gazed back at her Master. She wondered if it
would be a good idea to remove the other slave's chastity belts. The
collars would definitely have to come off, though. But not right
now, time enough for that later, after the rendezvous with the Hapan
ship. With images of several hundred scantily slave girls, and boys,
running through her mind, Alema Rar drifted off to sleep.

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